


Internet Access

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam will never have his brother the way he wants.  This is what he takes instead, what he tries to make be enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Internet Access

Sam’s head descended slowly to the desk, where he rested it for long moments with his eyes closed, wondering how his life came to this and cursing whoever it was that invented the internet, because clearly it was _entirely their fault_.

The whirring of the computer starting up caused him to release a sigh, and he banged his head on the desk a few times for good measure, because he _knew_ this was wrong, knew that it was becoming an obsession, but he couldn’t _not_ , he couldn’t get through the day without starting it like this.

Dean wasn’t there, had left just a few minutes earlier to grab coffee and donuts, thinking Sam was still asleep. This was the only chance he’d have all day to be alone, if the pattern of their usual hunts was anything to go by, and if he was going to take advantage of it, he had to do so quickly.

It had started out innocently enough, he was sure of that. He wasn’t _exactly_ sure why he’d felt the need to bookmark the fan site for the Supernatural books after meeting Chuck, but he _was_ sure it had been entirely innocent. Research. Nothing else.

He didn’t know when it had changed from being ‘research’ to what it was now. Just that somewhere down the line, he’d stopped skimming the stories, and started reading them. Started _enjoying_ them.

Started _wanting_.

He lifted his head just as the main page loaded, and clicked on his bookmarks. It didn’t take much effort to find a promising place to start – he was familiar by now with all the authors, knew which stories were going to get him what he was looking for the quickest, knew what to look for in summaries and ratings and, of course, _pairings_. He was a master by now at skimming past the useless drivel and finding the gems. The good stuff. The _slash_.

Sam-slash-Dean.

That _slash_ was burned into his mind, so much so that he dreamed about it sometimes, the line thick and black and stretching from one corner of his vision and off into the distance. He dreamed about all the problems it had caused him since he’d learned what it meant. The dreams, though, never stopped him from wanting more.

He found a promising story and clicked on it, noting that it was short enough that he wouldn’t have to skip to the part he wanted the most. As someone who’d always read books on a regular basis, he could appreciate the gift the author had, a brilliant writing style with words that jumped off the page. He greedily took everything in, and when he reached _that_ part, the thing he’d been wanting from the beginning, it was too easy to reach down, slide one hand into his boxers to grasp at his already aching shaft.

As he read, it took no effort at all to imagine the scene unfolding in his mind. Dean, wrapped around him as he thrust into him steadily, body gleaming with sweat as they whispered words of love to each other in breathless gasps…

His hand pumped in a steady rhythm, and he bit his lip to keep the sounds he wanted to make inside as his eyes darted across the page. He climaxed at the same time as the characters in the story did, coming so hard that his vision whited out for a brief moment. He leaned forward, resting his head back on the desk as he fought to regain control of himself.

When he blinked his eyes open again, the image he’d been holding onto in his mind faded away like broken fog, and, as he always did, he set about his ritual of closing the website, clearing his browser history, and shutting down the computer. Feeling numb on the inside, another thing he was used to after so many months of this, he headed into the shower and scrubbed himself clean (even though he knew he could never be _really_ clean, not anymore).

When he stepped back out into the motel room, Dean was sitting on his bed flipping through a newspaper and biting into a donut. Sam pasted on his usual smile and sat down at the table, booting up his laptop as though it was the first time all day. “Where’s my coffee, jerk?”

“Get your own, bitch,” Dean replied flippantly, not even bothering to look up. But his hand waved toward the bedside table, and Sam saw it sitting beside the box of donuts. His smile turned a little more genuine.

He’d never have Dean the way he truly wanted. But they’d always be brothers, and that counted for something.

For everything else…well, at least he had the internet.


End file.
